The Hadrianus Apocrypha
by IndianSummer
Summary: Nearly two thousand years previous, Jesus appeared before a young man, telling him that eventually God would take a wife. That time has now come. JoanGod.
1. Prologue

Title: The Hadrianus Apocrypha

Author: Indian Summer

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Almost two thousand years previous, Jesus appeared to a young man and told him that God would eventually take a wife. That time has come now. Joan/God.

Thanks: I'd like to thank my betas- MoonbeamDancer, Amber, Lindsay, and Rachael. Especially MoonbeamDancer, who encouraged me to write this fic, and nagged me when I fell behind. She's the truest Joan/God shipper of them all.

Disclaimer: I don't own "Joan of Arcadia," the characters within it, Christianity, or basically anything else. Hell, if you want to get technical, I don't even own this computer. My dad does. Don't sue.

If you're a religious zealot or easily disturbed, turn back now. This is blasphemy in its purest form.  
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.**Prologue  
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Will Girardi glanced away from the television as his twenty-four year old daughter stumbled into the kitchen, shielding her tired eyes from the sunlight streaming through the kitchen windows.

"Too bright," Joan mumbled, making her way over to the cereal cabinet.

Will glanced at the wall clock and chuckled. "It's past 11."

Yawning, Joan responded, "I didn't even get to bed until like, five hours ago."

Will glanced over at the television before using the remote to turn it down, abandoning the news. "How is Luke?"

Joan temporarily ignored the question as she pulled a box of Special K from the cabinet. "He's good. You should call him."

Will sighed. "I don't think he wants to talk to us, Joan."

Shuffling over to the fridge, Joan shook her head. "He's not still mad. It just all got blown out of proportion. If you apologize to him-"

"_Us?_" Will interrupted defensively, "Apologize to Luke? We didn't do anything wrong. He made a stupid choice and-"

"It's too early to argue, Dad. But it wasn't stupid, it was romantic."

Will raised an eyebrow. "And what's the difference?"

Heaving a sigh, Joan shook her head. "I'm just saying. It's kind of stupid to lose your son over this. It's not like he broke the law or-" Joan froze, staring at the television. "I'll be upstairs," she murmured, before darting out of the room.

Will glanced over at the television and frowned. The frames were overlaid with a picture of some young man with dark hair and hazel eyes, smiling for the cameras. "Twenty-four and still shallow as a schoolgirl," Will muttered.  
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Joan nearly tripped over her rug as she ran into her room, lurching headlong onto her bed and grabbing the remote off her nightstand in one fluid motion. She flipped on the TV.

"-man found a papyrus scroll estimated to have been written in the first century AD. The local man, Aidan Miller, was on a youth expedition in Egypt, when he stumbled across the document, which had been hidden in a rock by-"

Joan swore under her breath as they showed a clip of the 'local man,' immediately recognizing him as the brown-haired, corduroy jacket wearing form of God. "Nuh-uh."

"-the document, written in Latin, is currently being translated, but it seems to consist of wedding plans-"

"God plays archaeologist now?" Joan voiced to no one in particular, and nearly jumped off the bed when there was a reply from behind her.

"I'm multifunctional," she heard as she spun around.

"Apparently, _Aidan_," she responded without missing a beat, raising an eyebrow. "So, wedding plans, huh? 'Wonder where you came up with that idea."

God smiled indulgently, looking over at Joan. "When are you going to understand that what I'm telling you is the truth?"

Joan sighed. "Listen, when I signed on to be your..." Joan gestured around wildly, "helper, or whatever, I didn't sign on for _this_," she hissed. "I signed on to be your conduit, not your- whatever."

"You make it sound like it's a dirty word, Joan. It's your destiny."

Joan looked around uncomfortably, as if she were expecting her father to come upstairs any moment. "Look, you've been telling me this for three years so far, and the fact that the first time I was so drunk I didn't know what I was doing..."

"You know, alcohol really gets a bad rap. Used excessively, it is a vice, sure. But every once in a while, you need your inhibitions lowered. It makes you live much more... naturally."

"That was _not_ natural. That was you having some kind of sick fun." Joan crossed her arms over her chest.

"We've gone over this, Joan. It's perfectly natural to be attracted to me."

"_God,_ it's not the attraction that gets to me. It's the fact that you fucking sprang the fact that I'm supposed to be your _wife_ on me. God isn't supposed to have a wife!"

God smirked, shaking his head. "That's where you're wrong, Joan. I _wasn't_ supposed to have a wife. Past tense. That's because the woman I'm supposed to take as my wife wasn't supposed to exist until the 'turn of the millennium."

"I still don't believe any of this. I mean, if we were to... do _that..._ wouldn't that like, make me a goddess?"

God nodded his confirmation. "Yes. Yes it would. And it will, Joan."

"What happened to free will?"

God smiled. "It exists. The problem with free will, though, Joan, is that you need to have the _will_ to actually follow through. And I'm pretty sure you've already proven you don't have the will to resist me."

Joan groaned, dropping her head into her hands. "God, you're such a jackass."  
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	2. Love As Thou Wilt

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Love as thou wilt, and He will ever guide your steps.+

When Joan awoke, there was drool on her pillow, a red crease in her cheek, and worse, the sun was shining through the windows. "Ugh," she groaned, turning her head to get a good look at her alarm clock.

It was flashing 12:00. Lovely. As soon as her brain had processed the thought that they'd probably lost power during the night, she shot out of bed, swearing under her breath. "So screwed," she muttered, hobbling toward the shower, eyes still bleary with sleep.

She'd started the Montgomery Youth Foundation over two years ago in New York, just waiting for the day it would be successful enough to open a branch in Arcadia.

And now, on the opening day of that branch, she'd overslept.

She disrobed quickly and jumped into the shower, not particularly caring warm water had not yet reached the spigot.

Today could make or break her. She was putting _everything_ she'd made into the success of the Arcadia branch.

And so far? It wasn't looking good.  
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Luke traced the contours of Grace's side with his fingertips, letting his hand hover over the dip above her hip, admiring her form.

Grace slept with her back to him and despite what she'd said, Luke knew she felt too vulnerable in her sleep to face him. He didn't mind, though, not really. As it was, Grace had made great emotional strides, and just the fact that she stayed in bed after they made love was proof of that.

He leaned over her, gently kissing the crook of her neck, where neck met shoulder. "Time to get up," he whispered, and she shifted beside him. "We've got classes."

"Mmm," Grace murmured, turning in Luke's arms to face him. "Lets not go today."

Luke chuckled softly, kissing Grace's forehead. "We did that yesterday," he responded, kissing her jaw line.

Grace pulled away uncomfortably, pulling the blankets up with her as she sat. "I'm such a bad influence on you," she said, only half-joking.

Luke gulped, shaking his head quickly. "No, Grace. Once in a while isn't a big deal. I was planning on skipping, anyway."

"Liar," Grace accused, leveling him with a stare.

"Grace, my dad was just... mad. He'll get over it. My mom has."

Grace raised an eyebrow.

"Kind of."  
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"Oh my God, oh my God, Jamie, I'm so sorry I'm late. My alarm didn't go off and then there wasn't any hot water and-"

"Joan. It's alright," Jamie Harding said reassuringly, giving Joan a smile. "We've got it covered. Ben took all the volunteers into the back room, Amber's with the decorators in your office, and I handled the construction team."

Joan grinned, greatly relieved. "I don't know what I'd do without you, James."

Jamie scrunched up her face. "Can you _not_ call me that? I don't get why you get a kick out of it."

"Sorry, sorry." Joan sighed. "I'm going to go meet the decorators in my office and talk about tile."

"Already done." Jamie frowned. "Some guy stopped by for you, though. Really cute. Do you have a new boyfriend you didn't tell me about?"

Joan bit her bottom lip, her eyes puzzled. "Noooo. What did he look like?"

"Oh, God, he was hot. Um, brownish hair, kind of short and spiky? Chocolately eyes. I could've just melted."

Joan squeezed her eyes shut. "I think I know who you're talking about. What did he say?"

"Um, not much. Just that he was looking for you and wanted to give you some gift. I left it on your desk."

Joan nodded and immediately headed toward her office. She saw the package immediately upon entering, and with a smile at Camille Brady, the head designer, she began to open it gingerly.

She should've been surprised by what she found inside, except she'd been expecting something similar, something weird, something quirky.

"Whoever the guy is, dump him now," Camille commented, glancing over at Joan.

Joan smiled at her gift, a pastel blue Skip-It. "He's not my boyfriend."

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Grace was strangely quiet through breakfast, and Luke darted looks at her every few minutes, trying to gauge what was wrong.

"Will you stop looking at me?" Grace asked over her French Vanilla coffee, glaring at Luke.

"I always look at you," Luke shrugged.

"Not like _that._"

Luke sighed. "Why are you so upset?"

Grace set down her mug and stabbed a pancake with her fork. "I'm not. I'm just anxious. I have an exam today."

"Uh-huh."

"I _do._"

"I know you do. I just think it's more than that." Luke scooted his chair closer to Grace, reaching out his palm so it cradled the side of her face. "You really shouldn't worry about my dad thinks."

"It's not that," Grace replied quickly.

Too quickly. "That's what you keep saying, but every time anything remotely related to it comes up..."

Grace bit her lip, studying Luke intently. "I think he was right."

Luke was sure his heart missed a few beats. "What?"

"I just- maybe we were wrong. We shouldn't be together. I just drag you down."

"Grace, that's crazy."

Grace shook her head. "No, it's not."

Luke leaned in to kiss the tip of her nose, but she pulled away. "Grace, I don't care about what they say. You're more important to me than any school."

Grace smiled sadly. "Luke, that's sweet. But not true."

"Grace..." Luke's voice was strained.

"You got into Johns Hopkins and Yale, Luke. Those are like, the top schools for the stuff you're interested in. You shouldn't-"

"I already told you. That's not as important as you. I can get a good education in other places, but I can't have you there."

"Maybe we should at least go back to Arcadia, try to talk to your parents."

Luke shook his head forcefully. "No. If they can't accept that you're the most important thing in my life, I have nothing to say to them."

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The snow had come early this year; there was already four inches on the ground and it was only November. Joan glanced around Arcadia Central Park, blanketed in a thick coat of sparkling white snow and nearly empty on the cold afternoon.

Nearly.

"Hey," Joan said casually, walking over to God, who was sitting on a bench. "A Skip-It?"+

God glanced up at her and smiled. "When you were eight, your parents gave you the hot pink one, but you always wanted the blue one, like Susie Neilson had."

"I'm twenty-four now," Joan responded, dropping down onto the bench next to him.

"It took on a deeper meaning."

"I don't like that you can read my mind. It gives you too much of an advantage," Joan muttered.

God smiled indulgently. "I don't read minds. Well, I do, but not in the way you're implying. It's more an instant knowing. I know when something happens to you, or what your essence is, without really hacking into your thoughts."

"Hacking?"

"I've turned into a computer junkie as of late. You should use yours more often."

"Is that an order?"

"When have I ever ordered you to do anything?"

Joan groaned, burying her boot-covered feet under the snow. "Why'd you do it?"

"You may not be omniscient... yet... but I know you know the answer to that one."

Joan raised an eyebrow. "So you're... what? Courting me?"

"I don't think I need to court you, Joan."

"Oh no?"

"I think you already like me enough to not have to worry about that. You're just not ready to admit it to yourself yet."

"There's nothing to _admit,_" Joan cried, irritated. "I don't have feelings for you. That's like, sick! I have a boyfriend."

"You _had_ a boyfriend. I know you've been avoiding him, ignoring his calls."

"It has nothing to do with you."

God sighed, patting Joan on the leg and grinning. "I'm pretty sure that's not true."  
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+ Quote modified from Jacqueline Carey's Kushiel's Dart, a thoroughly amazing novel. Worth reading if you have the chance.

+ I don't own Skip-It. Obviously.


End file.
